To Protect
by Zeh Wulf
Summary: AU In the new Meiji era, a rurouni is taken into the home of a young girl with a strange talent. She can see things that no one else can, but her happiness is for show. Something is coming and for once she is blind to the future. (Complete)
1. To Protect: Prologue

This is a very definite AU story.  Kenshin is the only non original character appearing, but revolves around him and the relationship he has with a young girl named Saya.  The story picks up around the same time the manga does, just with a completely different cast ^_^ I know these kinds of stories aren't very popular, but the idea for it just wouldn't go away.  There are some spoilers for those who haven't seen Samurai X or read the Enishi story arc in the manga.  And where did I get the manga? Ahem, one word… Argh.  Anyway, enjoy! 

To Protect

**Prologue **

The room was stuffy and hot in the summer heat.  Outside, the flowers in the garden wilted and drooped, and the birds were too weak to sing anything more than the occasional half-hearted chirp.          

            Saya moved from bedroom, to the porch that connected to the garden.  She looked up at the pale blue sky and smiled.  The heat was making her hair limp, and she had it balled up in a crude bun on the back of her head.  A pretty blue ribbon with purple flowers kept it secure, tied so that the two ends hung down to her neck and rustled when she turned her head.  She idly swatted away the persistent lock of hair that always seemed to escape when she put her hair up and sighed happily.  Something good was going to happen today, she could feel it.  

            "Saya," a short, middle aged man appeared at the door of her room.  Saya turned and gave him a big smile.  The man ambled into the room, a cane supporting the limp in his left leg.  He stood beside her and placed an affectionate hand on her head.

            "I see the heat hasn't dampened your spirit," he chuckled as she bounced to her feet and gave him a hug.

            "How can I be sad?  The heat is bringing me a present!" she laughed, going to her small chest of clothes at the end of her bed.  She rummaged through and pulled out her best kimono and sash.  

            "What kind of present?" her uncle asked, not at all disturbed by the absurd sounding comment.  Saya always seemed to know things that other people didn't.  When her parents had entrusted her with him they had told him about her power.

            "She will say strange things, almost like she knows what's going to happen.  It won't happen often, but when it does, trust her feelings.  In order for her true power to develop later, she'll need all of your support and love, Muriko."

            They had left their only child in his care.  She hadn't cried or protested, adapting to her new environment as if she had always been there.  About a month after she'd come to live with him, though, he'd found her sobbing in the garden.  When he'd asked her what was wrong she told him her parents had broken their promise.  They'd promised they'd come back to see her again, but now they wouldn't.  Two weeks later he received a message saying his brother and sister-in-law had fought and died for the sake of the new era as a part of a secret force of fighters.  He'd questioned the courier, who had been part of what would later become the Meiji government, but he'd refused to clarify any more than that.

            "I don't know," Saya's voice brought him out of his reverie, "All I know is that I will like it very much," she smiled at him, hugging the kimono to her chest.  Then a shadow crossed her eyes, "Although," she continued, her voice losing its cheer, "it will also bring me some sorrow."

            "Saya," Muriko moved forward to comfort her, wondering what this "present" could possibly be.

            Saya smiled suddenly, the shadows banished from her face, "But I think I'll like it too much to care that there will be sorrow!" 

            With a smile, she ushered him out of the room so she could changed.  A few minutes later she was skipping down the road to town, calling over her shoulder that she would be back in the evening.  Muriko watched her go with a bemused smile.  His niece was so puzzling, but one of the purest, kindest people he had ever met.  He would look after her for as long as she would have him, and love her forever.  

            His smile became rueful as he realized how soon she might actually leave.  It had been fourteen years since she'd come to stay with him already.  In a couple of months that number would become fifteen.  How long until she found a husband?  Her beauty and kindness had already found several suitors at his door over the years, but she had gently refused them all.  When he would ask her why she didn't like this boy or that one, she would always shrug with a smile and say, "I'm still waiting."  Muriko sighed and shook his head.  She could even "feel" how her love life would shape out.  

            With another sigh, he turned back to the house and his chores.  

Please don't make fun of my names because I make up all of them in the vain hope that they sound at least vaguely Japanese.  The name Saya, however, was inspired by one of my favorite books, which is translated from Japanese.  I found it in junior high and long before I discovered anime, but looking back perhaps I can see where it all started from… ^_^;;  


	2. Will You Stay With Me?

Hello all my lovely little readers!!! ::cricketcricket…cricket:: A-heh-heh, yeah.  Well here's the first chapter that I'm sure you've been waiting for with baited breath.  I've actually already written this fic once… but decided to expand it for the purposes of exploring Saya's here-to underdeveloped character.  At the time I was just trying to get the stupid thing out of my head, but now that the writer's lust has dissipated I find myself wanting to give her a bit more time to grow.  Unfortunately this means the installments might not be regular… I've already had a severe case of writer's block with chapter one… and I didn't even change it all that much -_-;; Well, bear with me, please…

To Protect: **Will You Stay With Me?**

Saya wandered the streets of town, stopping in to greet friends and playing with some of the village children that she passed.  She didn't go looking for what was coming, because that would only end up frustrating her.  She had learned early on that "knowing" worked best when she wasn't really paying attention to what was coming.  So, she would pass her afternoon without care and simply let what was coming greet her when it was ready.

            "Saya," the young woman behind the counter greeted her.

            Saya beamed at her friend as she entered the cloth shop, "Good afternoon, Kashi," she settled on an empty stool by the counter.  

            "What are you doing here?  You don't work again until next week," the older woman chatted as she folded long bolts of fabric with crisp movements.  Saya sighed slightly at her friend's skill.  She'd been working part time at Kashi's shop for nearly four years and still couldn't get the edges quite so smooth or the shape as neat.  She mostly helped out with the commissions that flooded the store.  Kashi was popular in the village for her unique patterns and fine taste in material.  Saya would tend to the mundane orders, allowing the seamstress more time to devote to the more elaborate requests.

            "I was just taking a stroll," Saya fiddled with a scrap piece of silk that had fallen behind the counter.  

            Kashi smiled at her friend, seeing the barely controlled restlessness in the fingers that caressed the fabric, "Is that all?" she asked.

            Saya wrinkled her nose at her friend and smiled guiltily, "Maybe not," she admitted and then leaned in, face taking on a conspiratorial expression, "I might be getting a present," she informed the seamstress in low tones.

            "What kind of present?" Kashi hunched down too, stifling a giggle.  Saya could always bring out the little girl in her.

            "If I knew, it would spoil the surprise," the ends of the ribbon bobbed against her cheeks as she nodded sagely.

            "That's true," Kashi conceded with a chuckle and then waved the girl out, "You'd better hurry, then," she advised, "It's getting late."

Saya waved goodbye as she left the shop, the fading sun catching her in the eye and causing her hand to fly to her face.  With a rueful grin she rubbed the stinging tears away and turned down the street to go to the lake.  It sat on the edge of the shops and buildings and was the perfect place to watch the sunset.

            Saya skipped down the hill that overlooked the water and skidded to a sudden stop as she realized she wasn't alone.  Sitting by the edge of the pond was a young man with red hair, a sword sheathed at his side.  The law forbade swords of any kind being worn in public, but that wasn't what had startled her.  With a happy laugh she continued her way down the hill.

            "Do you mind if I sit next to you?" she asked with a smile.  A pair of big, innocent purple eyes turned to face her.

            "Oro?" the man blinked at her in surprise and then smiled back, "Of course, I don't mind at all."

            Saya sat next to him, wrapping her arms around her knees and resting her chin on them, looking out over the water.  The man returned his gaze as well, and they watched the sun lower in the sky, sending red and orange bands of color over the rippling surface.

            "So now what?" Saya turned expectant eyes on the man.  

            "Oro?!" he looked at her, startled by the question, "I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean," he smiled a little warily.

            Saya laughed, "Well, I guess now that I've met you I should at least ask you your name," 

            The man's smile relaxed, "My name is Himura Kenshin," he bowed his head to her politely.

            "I'm Saya," she returned the bow and grinned, "You're a newcomer," she pronounced, "I know everyone in this village and I would certainly remember hair like yours."

Kenshin smiled back, "I'm a wanderer," he explained, "I was just passing though your town to get some supplies, but I'm afraid I was sidetracked by your beautiful lake."

Saya's gaze became sharp, "You're a wanderer?" she demanded.

Kenshin nodded uncertainly under her intense scrutiny.  She looked like she was trying to pick apart who he was with her eyes alone.  She leaned toward him, face mere inches from his own, her mouth set in a determined line.  

"Ah, Ms. Saya?" Kenshin stuttered, wondering if perhaps the young woman was what most villagers lovingly referred to as "eccentric."

"I can't quite figure it out yet," Saya huffed and sat back again, though still regarding him with the same curious air.

"Figure out what?" Kenshin inquired politely, relief that she'd leaned away sweeping through him.  

"What I'm supposed to do with you," the girl sighed and broke the stare.  As she did, her eyes happened to fall on his sword, "You're a warrior," she sounded surprised.

Kenshin was no less startled, "Retired," he clarified reassuringly as he wondered what she could possibly be talking about.

Saya pinned him with a knowing look, "Really?" her tone was doubtful.  Kenshin felt a drop of sweat roll down his neck.  

"Can I see?" she asked, indicating the sword again.  Kenshin nodded as he withdrew it from the scabbard, metal hissing against the leather.  

Saya examined it in the fading light.  The sun's rays ran along the length of the blade like blood, "It's," she touch the metal delicately with a finger, "It's backwards." She looked to the wanderer, puzzled.

Kenshin gave her a bright smile, "A wanderer doesn't need a sword made for killing, only to protect himself and others." He slid the blade home again with a snick.  Saya nodded thoughtfully at the statement and seemed to withdraw into herself for a moment.

"Hmm, do you like wandering, Kenshin?" she asked, leaning her cheek on top of her knees.  

He could only stare at her for a moment.  The certainty in her voice, like she already knew the answer better than he did was shocking.  

"Well, it is lonely sometimes," he admitted.

Saya nodded, "Good,"

"Good?" Kenshin echoed, confused.

Saya grinned at him, looking very impish, "Since you've admitted it, you can't turn down my hospitality."

            Kenshin blinked at her, "Your… Oro?"

            The girl stood and offered him a hand up, "Will you stay with me?  I'm sure my uncle won't mind since I knew you were coming."  
            "Oro?" Kenshin let himself be tugged to his feet by her insistent grasp.  He felt like the ground around him had turned to quicksand and he was powerless to stop his sinking.  Still, he couldn't deny that despite the strangeness of the circumstances he wasn't nearly as uneasy with them as he felt he should be.  

            "There's no need for that!" he assured her, "I'm fine living in this way."

The girl made a very unladylike snort, "Nonsense.  You're looking for somewhere to settle and I'm providing you with a safe place to do just that."

The redhead shook his head again, still trying to put up the arguments he felt obligated to make, "Please do not feel that you need to protect me from anything, Ms. Saya."

            Saya grinned at him, "Just who will be protecting whom?  I'm a young woman living defenselessly with my crippled uncle.  You," she poked a fingertip at his chest to emphasize her words, "are a retired warrior." Kenshin bowed his head in defeat, his remaining arguments suddenly feeling silly.  She certainly had him on that point.

"I don't think your uncle will approve," he tried again anyway.  Saya grinned, realizing her victory.  She flapped a hand at him and started along the edge of the lake towards home, "Don't worry!  You're supposed to stay here.  I know these things," she gave him a wink over her shoulder.  Kenshin could only sigh and follow her.  Hopefully her uncle would be a more successful arguer.

"Uncle!" Saya bounced into the house, followed by a more sedate Kenshin.  Muriko appeared from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel.

            "Welcome home, Saya!" he wrapped her in a hug and then held her at arms length, "Did you get your present?" 

            Saya beamed and waved Kenshin over, "Uncle, this is Himura Kenshin," she turned her smile to Kenshin, "And Kenshin, this is my Uncle, Muriko."

            The two men greeted each other politely, the shorter of the two wondering what 'present' the taller had been referring to.  His question was soon answered, however.

"Uncle," Saya wasted no time once the introductions were over, "Kenshin is a retired warrior and he needs a place to settle, at least for a while." She placed a comforting hand on the rurouni's shoulder and gave him an encouraging smile.

"Is that so?" Muriko looked Kenshin over critically.  The redhead certainly didn't look like a warrior with his small stature and angelic looking face, but the sinews that stood out on the backs of his hands and the air of quiet confidence that hung around him spoke otherwise.  Muriko smiled in genuine pleasure.  He hadn't met a true samurai since his own brother had departed from the world.  It was refreshing to see that the rare breed hadn't died out quite yet.

"Please do not feel obligated to take me in, sir," Kenshin began formally but was waved into silence by the older man.

"Nonsense," he began.  Kenshin couldn't help but smile at the unknowing repeat of his niece's earlier phrase.

"I'd feel better knowing my niece has someone reliable to keep her safe," he sighed a little guiltily, "Between my work and this bum leg, I'm afraid I don't  measure up to the job," he held out a hand, smiling, "So, if you'll accept our invitation, I invite you to consider our home as your own." 

Kenshin stared at the proffered hand numbly for a few moments before smiling ruefully and taking it in his own, "Thank you, sir." He chuckled, amazed at how quickly his life had made such a startling turn.

Well there ya go.  It always killed me how easily he accepted Kaoru's offer to stay with her in the manga.  Ah well, at least Saya has a bit more reason to invite him in the first place.  Some people might notice that I don't have Kenshin do that scary, yoda-ish speech thing… well, truth be told, I haven't actually seen the anime series, only a smattering of episodes.  All my writing on the series is based off the manga (all 28 glorious volumes), and the translations I have didn't come with 'sessha' speech, so I'm not really comfortable with emulating it.  So… yeah, just a little explanation… 


	3. A Different Kind of Girl

Not a very long chapter… a prelude to the deeper, darker parts of the story, if you will.  And sorry to anyone who's reading this for the late posting.  I haven't been working on this much because, frankly, not many people appear to be reading it and people _are reading the Blade of the Immortal fics I've been writing, soooo… motivation is understandable, yes?  I've only got so much time on my hands to write (damn finals) and I'm naturally going to concentrate on what people really want.  Heh.  However, my pride forces me to point out that I won't be updating this story contingent on reviews -_- cause frankly I think if you're going to write a story you should just write a story… how fast I get it out is another matter entirely… Anyway, onto chapter two…_

**To Protect: **A Different Kind of Girl   

Kenshin poked a rumpled looking head out of his room, gazing up and down the hall as he stifled a yawn.  He was up early, as usual.  A small grin tugged at the sides of his mouth as he realized no one else was awake yet.  Now was his chance to prove to himself and the others that he wouldn't be a burden to them.

            With a satisfied nod he turned down the hall and headed for the kitchen.  What could be better than waking up to a hot breakfast?  

            "Kenshin, is that you?" Saya's voice froze his hand just as it grasped the kitchen door.

            "Ms. Saya?" he opened the door and found her beaming at him.  She was already halfway through preparing breakfast.

            "Did you sleep well?" she asked, turning back to her work, humming a little tune under her breath.  Kenshin stood paralyzed at the door, a disbelieving smile plastered on his face.  Finding someone who woke up before him was a slightly disturbing thing.  A glance out the window confirmed that it was still another half hour until true sunrise.  

            "Kenshin?" Saya regarded him over a shoulder, concern plain on her face.

            "Ah," he started back into reality and grinned sheepishly, "Sorry, it just surprised me to see you up before me.  I thought I was an early riser."

            Saya winked, "We're a bunch of early birds, this family," she informed him, her voice taking on a conspiratorial cadence.  Kenshin chuckled and joined her at the counter, asking if he could help her with anything.  Saya promptly put him to work chopping vegetables and they worked side by side for awhile in comfortable silence.

            "Ms. Saya," Kenshin asked as a sudden realization hit him, "Is this enough food?" he eyed their work which was obviously only enough for two people.

            "Of course," she blinked at him roundly before her brows furrowed, "Unless you're an especially big eater.  I could make more if you'd like." 

            Kenshin put up his hands in protest, "No, no, I'm just worried there won't be enough for your uncle."

            "My uncle?" she echoed blankly for a moment before she burst into laughter.

            "Ah…" Kenshin watched his hostess with a bemused smile, waiting for her to let him in on the joke.

            "Sorry," she chuckled, her mirth fading to a mischievous grin, "It's just that my uncle has already left for the day."

            "Oro," the rurouni caught himself against the counter as his legs tried to give way in disbelief.  She wasn't kidding.  They really were early risers.

            "Hey, Kenshin," Saya called out, skipping across the yard to where he was busy doing laundry.  Kenshin looked over his shoulder just as he snapped open a damp sheet.  Saya laughed and put up an arm to ward the droplets from her face.  For being a deadly former assassin he was fairly clumsy she noted as she waved away his fumbling apology.  Once again she was tempted to ask about his past, but let the urge slide away.  She could 'feel' enough to understand his situation, but anything more would have to come from his own mouth and she was willing to be patient.   

            "I start work again today," she announced, helping him pin the offending sheet onto the line to dry.  

Kenshin blinked at her in surprise before smiling, "That's wonderful, Miss Saya." 

"I hope you don't mind, but could you look after the house while I'm gone?" she queried, glancing at him from the corner of her eye as she hung up another sheet. 

"I would be happy to," he replied dutifully.  Saya suppressed a small sigh at his politeness.  She knew just how boring staying at home could be.  It was why she'd started working after all.  However, her rurouni was far too polite to say anything that might make his presence noticed.  That was what her next statement was for.

"It might be troublesome, though," she admitted sadly, "the neighborhood children like to play in our yard since it's so big.  If they see that you're here they might try to bully you into letting them in, but you shouldn't let them if you don't want to," she fought to keep her face straight.  That Kenshin loved children had been painfully obvious since first time he'd accompanied her to the market, even without her intuitive nature.  Hopefully he would take the bait.

"I wouldn't mind letting them play in the yard if it is alright with you," his normally guarded smile was just a bit lighter.  Saya did a mental dance of victory while outwardly giving an indifferent shrug.

"As long as they don't bother you," she allowed.  Kenshin bowed his thanks, a slightly silly grin plastered on his face.  Saya gave up trying to be nonchalant about the situation and gleefully launched into a description of each of the children, detailing their favorite games and snacks.  

"You must play with them often," Kenshin observed as they returned to the house with the empty basket of laundry.

Saya assumed her indifferent posture again, waving a dismissing hand, "Only when I have nothing better to do." The effect was ruined, though, as a small voice outside reached them.  Squealing with excitement, Saya whirled back into the yard to greet the first young playmate to arrive.  Kenshin watched her explain the change in adult figures to the younger boy with a genuine smile.  He still didn't understand how she seemed to know so much about him, but he couldn't deny that he was enjoying the results.  He'd only been staying with her for a handful of days and already she was teasing him into relaxation.  Her open and complete acceptance of his presence was a balm to his battered soul.  That she understood at least vaguely what he'd once been he could sense, and the fact that she apparently didn't care was astonishing, to say the least.  Still…

He shook off the sudden gloom that had pervaded his thoughts and forced a cheerful smile on his face as he moved to where Saya was greeting another young one.  She didn't know everything, the thought hung depressingly in his mind.  If she knew all his dark secrets, met all of his ghosts, she might not accept him so easily.  The knowledge was a pall on what had started out as such a bright day.

Saya crept softly across the yard, shoes left at the gate to quiet her steps.  Kenshin was asleep, slumped against the wall on the front porch.  It was simply too irresistible an opportunity to pass up.  

With a small smile, she noted the telltale marks in the yard of what must have been a particularly rambunctious day of play.  The laundry hung damply from the lines.  Since she'd helped him with those same shirts earlier in the morning, she could easily assume that the day's games had somehow caused it to need a second washing.  The smudges of dirt on Kenshin's own clothing was testimony enough.  She chuckled softly as the rapidly closing distance between them gave her a good view of the muddy streak a small set of fingers had left on his cheek.

"Have fun today, Kenshin?" she murmured as she knelt beside him.  In sleep his face was relaxed, making his eerily young face appear even younger.  At the same time, though…

Saya hesitantly brushed a fingertip against the livid scar, pronounced even with its coating of dirt.  At the same time, though, it was also easier to see past the rurouni mask he showed her everyday.  She wondered if in sleep he was brought closer to the one who had marked him so.  To her, Kenshin felt like summer storm, dark and warm, lightening flickering someplace overhead beyond eyesight but overshadowed by the soft, sweet rain.  The scar was a different story.  The scar felt of blood and anger and love.  It made her shiver whenever she looked at it.  The mark showed her his past more completely than any words that might someday come from his mouth.  

"Miss Saya…?" Kenshin's voice slammed her senses back into real time.  She blinked rapidly as her vision slowly reasserted itself.  

"Are you alright?" her feeling heightened senses clanged angrily at the concern that rolled off of him.  Saya winced at the onslaught.  Sometimes feeling was more trouble than it was worth.  

"Yes," she hastily reassured him, "Just thinking." It was then that she realized her straying fingertips were still alighted against his cheek.  With an apologetic smile she withdrew them and stood, brushing her kimono back into order.  

"That's just my luck," she sighed dramatically, "You were just sleeping there, begging to be attacked, and I let my spacey head wander off with the breeze," she waved a hand airily and flounced into the house.  

Kenshin stared after her for a moment in confusion before a grin tugged his face into softer lines.  She was certainly a different girl.  That only made him like her more, though.  He chuckled as he stood, rubbing absently at the dirt tickling his face.  The action brought his thoughts abruptly back to the moment he'd opened his eyes to find her gazing at him.  There was sorrow in those eyes so intense that for a moment he'd had the half-crazed desire to demand the name of the bastard who'd put it there.  Another moment had made him realize, though, that whatever caused that sorrow hadn't come from an outside source.  

"What secrets do you have?" he murmured at the empty doorway, still hesitant to follow inside.  Again he was brought back to the same question that had plagued him from the minute she'd first spoken to him.  What was Saya's secret?  What let her know so much about him, about everything?  

_If you want answers you must first give your own,_ he observed with a wry grin.  No wonder she seemed so content to leave the questions he could see twitching on her lips left unsaid.  She wanted to know about his past, but at the same time was loath to divulge her own demons to him.  

"Kenshin!" her voice drifted from inside the house, "Are you going to go hungry or come help me with this dinner?" the demand brought an unexpected bubble of laughter to his lips.  He opened his mouth in surprise, marveling at the genuine sound.  How long had it been since someone could make him laugh like that.  Better still, had he even known how to laugh like that before now.  

His hand rubbed wearily against the back of his neck as he entered the house.  She was indeed a different girl.                   

Mwa, fluff that isn't fluff.  Heh.  I enjoy the fact that Saya doesn't blush when she's caught doing something "intimate."  She's just not flustered that easily, which is cool.  I mean, blushing is all well and good, flufftastic and all that, but sometimes I just wanna slap people around.  Give em a real reason to be red in the face.  Hehe, I'm not violent, I swear.  On another note, this fic isn't going to be too terribly long.  I'd estimate about another three to four chapters.  Anyway, I'll try and get the next part up in a more timely fashion.  I'm finally starting to settle into as style, I think.  Ah well.  Ja!      


	4. Mask of Peace

::cracks knuckles:: Alrighty… I've been away from this too long.  Time to update!  I've been so jaded about this fic recently.  Lacking of reviews really does suck.  It's so easy to work on something that other people are actually reading, and I've been struggling with what to do with these last few chapters, so that didn't help.  I got a revitalizing review from Anjali Sahra the other day, though.  Out of nowhere!  I did a dance of happy joy and picked the hammer back up immediately.  Time to forge!  Hehe, cheese.  The plot thickens here!  Watch out for angst and plot foreshadowing!

**To Protect: **Mask of Peace

            Saya swiped a weary hand across her forehead.  It was hot.  It was horribly, horribly hot.  She sighed and shifted the fabric heaped on her lap to let what little breeze that filtered through the shop brush by her legs.  Summer was quickly fading into the more mild days of fall, but there were still a few heat waves to ride out before the season gave out completely.  

            "How's that coming?" Kashi asked, a bit of tease in her voice as she indicated the rumpled mess on Saya's lap.  Saya grinned at her and shrugged, a sheepish look creeping into her eyes.

            "It's ok," she plucked at an imaginary piece of lint and flushed, "It's nothing compared to your work, but I think I'm doing it justice."

            Kashi hid a smirk behind her hand as she moved behind the counter where Saya sat.  She leaned over the younger woman's shoulder to inspect her work.

            "It's beautiful, Saya," she reassured her friend and then giggled, "You must really like whoever it is you're making it for." 

            Saya shot the older girl a glare before her face fell into a helpless smile.  She nodded mutely and returned to her work, fingers moving with deliberate care.  Kashi watched her for a moment before moving back out to the shop floor to tidy up.  The day was almost over and she didn't want to leave all the cleaning to the last minute.  

            A flash of red on the road caught her eye.

            "Mr. Himura!" she cried overly loud, shooting a glance at the startled girl behind the counter before running out to the street to meet him.  Kenshin blinked at her in surprise before his usual smile appeared.  Kashi beamed back at him, leading him into the shop slowly, stretching out the greetings and pleasantries as much as she could without being too obvious.  By the time they reached the doorway, Saya was in the back of the shop, broom in hand, doing battle with a dust bunny in the corner. 

            "Ms. Saya, I'm here to pick you up," Kenshin announced as they entered.  Kashi moved behind the counter, shielding the hastily bundled pile of silk that was tucked in one of the alcoves that held finished commissions.  

            "Oh, Kenshin, you're early," Saya turned around, smile a bit too bright.  Kashi bit back a sigh.  If there was one thing Saya wasn't, it was a convincing liar.  Still, she couldn't blame her for being put off guard.  The younger girl had confided just last week that the longer the rurouni stayed with them the less often she got feelings about him.  Kashi had teased her about being blinded by love, but let the subject drop when her friend's face had paled.  

            "Well, since I'd hate to make Mr. Himura wait," she filled in the awkward silence smoothly, "I guess I'll let you go home now," then, letting mischief get the better of her, "If you hurry you can catch the sunset by the lake," she smiled serenely at Saya's slightly pale face.  

            "Thanks, Kashi," Saya returned, voice tight.  Suddenly a suspiciously innocent smile brightened her features, "Perhaps I'll see Mr. Matsumoto there.  I'll be sure to tell him you say hello."

            Kashi gave her a half hearted glare before sighing in defeat, "Oh, just get out of here," she shooed the couple from the shop grumpily.  Saya smirked at the flustered woman and gave her a broad wink.  Kashi's nose wrinkled in a frown, but she couldn't help the laughter that tumbled out afterwards.

            "I'll see you tomorrow," Saya called over her shoulder as she and Kenshin hurried away.  Kashi waved goodbye and sighed as she watched her best friend turn to the man beside her.  No, there was no doubt in anyone's mind that the strange little darling of the village had finally fallen in love.

            "How was your day?" Kenshin inquired as they strolled companionably down the street.  

            Saya shrugged, a small grin plastered on her face, "It was fine.  Nothing out of the ordinary," her voice was light and distracted.  Kenshin watched her profile for a moment before returning his gaze to the road with a small "ah."  She was particularly distant today.  This morning she'd tried to pour soy sauce into her tea.  Kenshin's admirable reflexes had been only thing that saved her from a sodium rich breakfast.  He sighed lightly, letting his concern nag at him a little longer before he gentle tucked it away.  No one seemed concerned when she had days like this.  When questioned, her uncle had given a helpless shrug, saying that it was just one of the many quirks that made her Saya.  Kenshin couldn't argue with that.  Even though they bothered him because he didn't know what caused them, her spacey days were usually endearing.  Her distraction made her less concerned with proper appearances and she was usually quite playful.  The village children seemed to know as they usually showed up in greater numbers on those days.

            "There it is," the satisfaction in her voice brought Kenshin from his musings.  He turned to ask what "it" was and discovered air where only moments before a young woman had stood.

            "Oro," he murmured resignedly as he followed her already distant form down towards the lake. 

            "Hisato!" her stern voice drew the attention of a small group of children standing by the bank.  Kenshin slowed as she strode forward purposefully, arms swinging with determination.  He couldn't help but feel sorry for the young boy who stepped forward to acknowledge the summons.

            "Good evening, Ms. Saya," he bowed nervously, "How are you?" 

            "Don't try and sweet talk me, sir," she wagged a finger in his face, "you know perfectly well that you'll scare poor Ayako to death." 

            Kenshin tried to ignore the randomness of the statement.  Her conversations with people on these days were usually fragmented, but this was especially strange.  He knew the little girl she was referring to and she wasn't currently present in the group of youngsters. 

            "It's just a little bit of fun, Saya," Hisato pouted suddenly, crossing his arms over his chest.  The rest of the group murmured softly in agreement.  They subsided at the angry glare she gave them.

            "This is pushing fun, and you know it," she returned, "I'll overlook your pranks sometimes, but not when you take them this far." 

            The young crowd didn't seem convinced by her words.  Saya sighed then, pinching the bridge of her nose as if she was getting a headache.

            "Did you stop to think about Eiko?  They sleep in the same room, you know," her voice was definitely sounding strained.  Kenshin moved closer to her, concerned by the sudden fatigue he saw in her profile.

            "What about her?" the boy scoffed, but his attention was suddenly razor sharp.

            "She has a weak heart, Hisato," Saya reminded him softly.  The children stilled at her words and looked solemn.  Hisato quickly reassured the older girl that they wouldn't do anything.  After quiet farewells, the group dispersed and wandered back to their respective homes.  Saya watched as the last child moved out of sight before slumping to her knees.  

            Kenshin knelt quickly, placing a hand on her shoulder, "Are you alright, Ms. Saya?" 

            Saya smiled at him reassuringly, "Yes, I'm fine.  I just need a little rest before we go back.  I really had to focus for the last part, but I didn't think they'd listen to me if I didn't."

            "Ah," he trailed off, trying to sound like he understood.  Saya turned sympathetic eyes on him, the corners of her mouth quirking slightly.

            "I suppose I should get around to telling you eventually," she conceded, "After all, you've been here for," she trailed off, calculating, "three months?"

            "About," he agreed, wondering at the sudden decision.  He didn't doubt that she was about to explain her secret to him, but wondered at the timing.  

            "They were going to sneak into Ayako's house tonight and pour snakes and toads onto her bed," she said suddenly, nodding her head to where the children had just vanished.  She drew her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them.  Kenshin smiled slightly, reminded of the first time he'd met her here.  It hadn't been that long ago, but at the same time years could have passed.  

            "I…" she frowned, "this is hard to explain," the grumble was good natured and Kenshin smiled.

            "Please, take your time," he reassured her gently.

            Saya flashed him a dazzling smile before returning her gaze to the lake.  

            "I guess you could call it divining the future," she said slowly, "but it's not like fortune telling.  I just get… feelings about what might happen.  And it isn't just predictions.  I can also read people very well.  People close to me have a hard time lying, and I can spot a dangerous character a mile off, no matter how charming he is," the scowl on her face suggested that something like that had happened before.

            Kenshin's eyebrows rose dramatically, disappearing into his hairline, "Oro?!  Then," he blinked, "is that how you knew I was coming?  And how you seemed to know so much about me?" 

            Saya nodded brightly, "You were like an open book, rurouni of mine," she chuckled.  Kenshin's grin turned floppy as he rubbed the back of his neck.

            "That's…" he stopped suddenly, something tugging at his memory.  Staring into Saya's face he blinked as another seemed to overlay it.  Where had he heard of this type of talent before?

            "How did this come about?" he asked cautiously, wondering if his vague memories were correct.

            Saya shrugged, "Inherited, I guess.  My mother had the same talent, though its trigger was different," she trailed off pensively, "The revolutionaries used her to spot traitors and to predict and plan assassinations."

            Kenshin's head snapped up.  The image of a woman with the same careless hair and arresting eyes as his young companion flashed through his mind.  

            _"He'll be at the inn, Himura," she murmured as she sipped tea, "two hours past _midnight___."_

_            "That's not what his pattern suggests," he argued softly from the booth behind her.  They sat with their backs to each other, neither acknowledging the other's presence._

_            "Trust me," she whispered, "I can feel these things.  He'll be there."_

              "-came to test me, but left me alone when they figured out I was useless," Saya was saying.  Kenshin shook off the past and struggled to recall what she'd been saying.

            "The talent is fickle, I guess.  She and my father were both fanatically loyal to the revolutionary cause, so she had no trouble feeling things from strangers as long as it concerned her ideals.  I'm a softy at heart, I'm afraid," she laughed, "if I don't have any emotional ties to a person I can't feel one thing about them."

            Kenshin blinked again, "But you said you can pick out dishonest people," he pointed out, confused.

            Saya paled and seemed to draw into herself, "That's because of the other talent I have," she said quietly, "the one I inherited from my father."

            A chill breeze blew past them and Kenshin felt himself shiver involuntarily.  He stilled instantly, eyes narrowing with concentration at the young girl beside him.  It had been awhile since he'd felt a premonition like that.

            "What talent is that?" he forced his voice to be light.

            Saya turned haunted eyes on him, "The power to protect," she said simply.

            Kenshin again felt himself thrown into the past.  There had been rumors of a man with demon-like skill; the primary bodyguard of any traveling leader of the revolutionary movement. 

            "You don't seem to like that talent," he observed, setting his words down like delicate glass on marble.  

            She shook her head, an almost bitter sounding laugh rumbling from her chest, "Sometimes you can want to protect too much.  That was how my father died.  He would do anything to protect his ideals, even throw himself into battle with almost two hundred men."

            _"We lost Taka today," Katsura informed him softly, mouth set in a grim line, "Now that both he and his wife are gone, it's only a matter of time before we start dropping like flies."_

_            "Sir?" he'd murmured, not quite understanding._

_            "Don't worry about it, Himura.  I already put too much on you.  And perhaps it's not so bleak as it appears.  I sent a man to find their daughter.  She might be able to step in to fill both roles her parents played… though if my sources are correct, she's far too young to be of any help now, if she even has their talents.  We can shield her, though, until there might be a day when she can help us," he'd smiled at Kenshin then, the strain of everything they were fighting for lying heavily on his face.  _

_            At a loss for words, Kenshin could only nod._

            "I knew your parents," Kenshin said suddenly.  Saya raised her head, eyes taking on a spark of life.  

            "You did?!" she asked excitedly, pouncing on his arm.

            "Ahh," he nodded, taken aback by the sudden death grip, "Not very well.  I met your mother a few times, and only briefly, and I had heard a lot about your father.  We all worked in the same circle of the revolution," he explained.

            Saya's eyes widened, "You must have been high up in the ranks if you worked with them.  The soldier who came to test me said they were some of the most important people of the revolution."

            He nodded.  Now that he remembered, it was easy to see the resemblance between the mysterious woman he knew in the revolution and this younger, burdenless girl.  

            Burdenless?

            Kenshin blinked slowly, watching Saya's body language as she stared up at him.  Her eyes told him so much.  Told him that there was far more sorrow in the daughter's heart than in the mother's.  

            "Saya," he started, wanting an answer for all the things she was deliberately not saying.  He'd wanted to know her secret, and suddenly it was painfully obvious that she'd hadn't told him anything he'd wanted to know.

            "What about you?" she asked suddenly, stilling his questions, "What does this mean?" she stroked a finger down the line of his scar.  Kenshin felt his breath hitch.  He watched as emotions flooded her face.  Love, hate, betrayal, anguish.  They weren't her emotions, though.  She was reading his past through that simple touch.  Reaching beyond the barriers of time and the mask of peace he wore to find the man he'd been.  

            He couldn't lie to her, even if he wanted to.  With a bitter smile he realized that it was his own fault they were in this position.  Suddenly, knowing her secret didn't seem so important if this was the cost.  

            "My wife," he explained, catching her hand and trailing her fingertips over the horizontal stripe, "And her first love," now vertical.

            "Dead," she whispered dully.  

            Kenshin closed his eyes and nodded, letting her hand fall back to her lap.  

            "In the revolution I did not go by this name… I was called the Hitokiri Battousai."

            The wind was cold, he told himself.  It wasn't necessarily his admission that made her shiver.  

            Her eyes were haunted with the emotions that had spilled from him into her soul.  He didn't have to tell her what he'd been, what he'd done.  She could feel every event simply by reaching out to him with her talent.  So this was how she could already have so much weight on her heart.  To know every sadness and joy of those close to you… A stranger's pain was devastating enough, but to feel the double lash of a friend's anguish on top of the empathy you felt for them… 

            "Kenshin," she flung her arms around him in a bone crushing hug.  

            "Oro!" he fell back on his elbows with the impact, "M-Ms. Saya?!" he stared at the dark head pressed to his chest in complete shock.  She raised her eyes to look at him then, tears running down her face and spilling into a mouth stretched in… a smile?

            "Are you… okay?" he asked, completely bewildered.

            "I'm glad you told me," she said simply.

            "I can leave tonight, if you wish," he reassured her, still puzzled by her reaction.  Didn't she want him gone?  Who in their right mind would want the dreaded Battousai living under their roof?

            "Don't be an idiot, Kenshin," she frowned.

            Apparently she did.

            "Oroooo," he wailed morosely.  If anything, he understood her even less now.  

            "What are you so flustered about?" she demanded, sitting back and pulling him up in one movement.

            "I'm Battousai.  Maybe you haven't heard of me before?" he speculated.

            She rolled her eyes, "Of course I've heard of the Battousai.  Who hasn't?" she shook her head and thrust a finger at the sword on his hip, "What's that?" 

            He blinked at the sword, wondering at the strange jump in logic, "My sword."

            "More specifically, your reverse-blade sword.  The sword you told me a wanderer used because he had no need for a sword made for killing."

            Kenshin nodded slowly, "You don't care that I was once the Battousai?" he asked doubtfully, but a note of reluctant hope snuck its way into the question.

            A slow smile spread across her face, "I know who you were, Kenshin," she said softly, "But I also know who you are… and truthfully, there was a lot of rurouni hidden in the Battousai.  You protect.  Then, and now.  You just used a different tool for each era.  The revolution needed a merciless sword, and now the Meiji needs the reverse-blade.  There is no shame in either in my mind," she stopped abruptly.

            "Saya?" Kenshin asked cautiously.

            Her eyes unfocused and she smiled at him again.  It wasn't one of her bright, carefree smiles, though.  Kenshin reached out a tentative hand, placing it on her shoulder.

            "Saya, are you alright?" he asked, alarmed by the complete desolation written across her features.

            She shuddered then, blinking slowly as she returned to herself.

            "There is no shame in either in my mind," she repeated softly as if nothing had happened, "even if there is in yours."

            "What happened?" he asked sharply.  Her expression was light again, but he was slowly realizing that she was just as adept at pasting on brainless smiles as he was.

            She stood, brushing grass and leaves from her kimono, "Don't worry about it, Kenshin," she shook her head and offered him a hand up.  He took it reluctantly.  There were too many questions left unanswered.  

            "Another day," she promised his unspoken demand, "Let's just go home for now." 

            He sighed in defeat.  It had been a rough evening so far.  Maybe they did need a rest before she revealed whatever it was that shadowed her heart in dull grays.

            "Race you," she challenged, already gathering her sandals in one hand and the bottom of her kimono in the other.

            "Oro," he stared at her blankly for a moment before realizing that she was already halfway up the hill.  He watched her go, an irresistible smile breaking across his face.  

            She dealt with it well.  Amazingly well.  It was more than just burying the feelings, it was a complete acceptance of their import… and then a quick toss to the wind.

            He hurried to catch up.

::panting:: Yikes, this chapter was long.  Well… by my standards ^_^ Ahhhh, I am so happy!  From here on out everything is crystal clear in my little ol' head.  Maybe two more chapters to go, three at most.  

Saya's power to feel things intrigues me.  It's very nebulous.  _I _don't even know exactly how it works.  Sometimes she can pick up thoughts, memories, emotions, premonitions of the future… just whatever her whacked out little head happens to stumble across.  Heh.  Do you see the foreshadowing?  There's a ton of it.  I tried to tone it down, though.  The original version practically screamed what was going to happen.  Now it's deducible, but not so glaringly obvious.  

Weee!  No one reads this!!!  Hehe.  I think the new Kenshin fic I'm working on will be much more popular.  But a big hearty thanks to Anjali Sahra, Lady E, Taye, Rook, and DeAth-TeNShI for my lovely reviews!!!  


	5. Blind Trust

Grr, I struggled with this chapter for almost a whole week.  I got to the blanket part and then was like O.O … can you see the wind blowing through my ears?  Complete blank… for a whole _week.  Then I sat down today and BAM!  A chapter.  Talk about pissy writing skills… sheesh._

So my Inu-Yasha readers hate me right now because I up and decided to try and give the story a plot ^_^ Hehe, silly Wulf.  And not only is that fic on my proverbial drawing board right now, but I've up and laid out the designs for a new Kenshin story.  Wah ha.  Ah… they hate… I laugh… it's a symbiotic relationship, really.  

Well, here's the new chapter of To Protect.  Get ready for a slap in the face!  No action?  Ah, but this is a short character piece.  Of _course_ the only real action is at the climax!  Have fun!

**To Protect: **Blind Trust

            He thought it might change things.  Maybe her gaze would be a little less direct, or the smile dimmed by unease.  But as the days stretched on, it seemed more and more like the talk by the lake had never happened.  

            However, it had also become what their lives revolved around.  Saya never ran out of questions, and most evenings found him sitting next to her in the garden, reliving his past.  For hours they would sit side by side, shoulders not quite touching, and his past would bleed from his mouth.  And she would sit there with her patient eyes, pressing understanding words to the wound to stem the flow.  Soon the ritual became a comfortable habit, and then the habit turned into an almost sacred tradition.  

            Kenshin stared up at the sky, absently counting the stars as they flickered to life in the evening breeze.  He could hear Saya approaching, footsteps light as she settled next to him on the bench.  She'd gone inside for a blanket.  That day by the lake had been the last of summer and the days since had been pleasant, the nights crisp with the promise of winter.

            "Are you sure you don't want one?" she asked, flapping a corner of the blanket at him.  He reassured her with a shake of his head and returned his gaze heavenward.  She followed suit and the minutes melted away.

            How was it that after a decade of wandering, four months in the company of one silly, melancholy girl could tease him into such relaxation?  It was slow, but it was happening.  He was beginning to heal, despite his better judgment.  It was just so hard to keep the guilt alive when she kept gently prying it away, insisting that at this point it was doing more harm than good.  

            "What are you going to do now?" her voice was so low that at first he didn't hear it.

            "I don't know," he admitted, glancing at her when she jumped in surprise.  Perhaps he hadn't been meant to hear it in the first place.

            "Well, you're welcome to stay here as long as you can put up with my uncle and me," she assured him with a sort of bittersweet smile.  Kenshin smiled dopily, feeling the ground bogging under his feet again.  Conversations with her tended to do that.  There was something lying between them now, unsaid, and he wondered what it was.

            "I hadn't intended on leaving anytime soon," he said carefully, watching her face for reaction.  

            Saya's mouth quirked in a sort of grin, "Really?  Well, that's nice to know," her attention was once again captured by the stars.  Kenshin's eyes followed the line of her profile, taking in the tension of the jaw and quivering of the muscles around her mouth.

            "What's wrong?" he made it more of a command than a question, "Have you felt something?"

            She sighed, her gaze slowly returning to his face.  Her eyes traveled over him speculatively, as if she was weighing whether or not to reveal something important.  Kenshin braced himself.  

            "It's more like I haven't felt anything," she explained finally, again not looking at him.

            Kenshin paused, the answer totally unexpected, "… About what?" he prodded gently.  He sensed he was close to the source of her pain and while he was loath to upset her, he also wanted to provide her with the same help she'd been giving him for the past months.

            Her face screwed up in a sardonic grin, "My future.  Something is coming that will change it… but I can't tell if it's for good or bad.  For once in my life I don't know what will happen to me, and it's absolutely terrifying."

            He blinked roundly, "Why can't you feel it?" 

            She shrugged, squirming in her seat uncomfortably, "I can't really say… I'm too close, and I think it's blurring my vision," she tugged at a stray lock of hair roughly and Kenshin winced.  He'd never seen her so uneasy.  There was still one more question left, though.  What was coming that would cause the change?  He asked her and she looked away, shaking her head mutely. 

            "Does it have something to do with your power?" 

            Her head whipped sideways to stare at him, face full of fear, "What?" she whispered harshly.  Kenshin stumbled over his words, startled by the intense reaction.

            "I was just speculating.  You seem uneasy with your power, the same uneasiness that you are showing now.  I wondered if that was more than just coincidence," he forced the issue out into the open, challenging her to deny the observation.

            Saya stared at him.  Then, the same sad smile she'd shown him at the lake was back.  He waited patiently as her hand came to rest on the scar on his cheek and held his breath.  

            "You're perceptive, Kenshin," she told him, "But as much as I want to, I can't say what will happen," she shrugged helplessly, "simply because I don't know.  I am as blind to the future as you are right now.  I know something is coming, but it is only a vague fear.  Terrifying, but without face or reason."

            He watched her eyes as he nodded his acceptance of the statement.  She was telling the truth, but not all of it.  Again he only received half of what he wanted to know.  She knew something about what was coming; maybe not a lot, but certainly more than she was telling him.  He hung his head in frustration. Their whole relationship seemed to be revolving around this one secret.  

            "Why can't you tell me the rest," he demanded softly, "I want to help you, Ms. Saya.  You've done much for me, and I wish to return that kindness."

            She smiled at him, this time one full of genuine happiness, "I'm glad I've been able to help, and you have no idea how much I wish I could accept that kindness," she trailed off, giving his cheek and gentle pat before letting her hand slide away, and stood.  He watched her readjust the blanket around her shoulders as she thought how to phrase her next words.

            "If I tell you more," she started slowly, gaze fixed thoughtfully on the ground, "It could change things in a way that I would never be able to accept.  My power is giving me this one tiny gift in the matter; a small choice.  It was one I made a long time ago.  All that is left is to see what happens afterwards," she smiled down at him.

            Kenshin frowned, "You decided not to tell me?" he asked, not quite clear on what she was saying.  

            "Yes," she nodded solemnly, "I made that choice even before I met you.  I've been living in this darkness for a long time."

            He shook his head irritably, standing as well.  Nothing she said made any sense to him, though it was probably all as plain as glass in her mind.  

            "I don't understand," he scowled, frustrated.  Saya chuckled at the expression on his face.

            "You're not supposed to," she pointed out.

            He shook his head again, raising his eyes to hers beseechingly, "I just want to protect you, Saya, that is all.  I can't do that if you won't tell me."

            She took a step toward him and paused, looking frustrated herself, "I don't… Kenshin, please just try to accept this.  I can't tell you, because if I do it will destroy the one thing most precious to me," she turned then, retreating to the house and her room.

            "Ms. Saya," his fists were clenched angrily.  He'd given her so much of himself, and it hurt to know that she couldn't or wouldn't do the same.

            She froze at the door, hearing the undercurrents of his tone.  Her head turned enough that he could see her profile, angled down as she quietly bade him goodnight.

            "Please respect my decision," she implored softly, a note of desperation touching her voice, "It will make it easier to respect yours."

            Then Kenshin was left alone in the moonlit garden, staring at the empty doorframe in bewilderment and anger.  He choked down a curse and slumped back onto the bench.  She was such a balm to his soul, and at the same time an itch that pervaded his entire body.  He'd never been in a love-hate relationship before, but was beginning to see why it drove most men to the bars at night.  

            Suddenly, a chuckle escaped his lips… then another.  In a few moments he was laughing full out, clutching his sides with mirth he hadn't felt in years, if ever.  

            He was being an idiot.  

            All she was asking in return for the gentle, desperate healing he needed was a little bit of blind trust.  He'd given that more times than he could count and to people who hadn't even come close to deserving it as much as she did.  Was it too much of her to ask him?  Certainly not.  It was just the overwhelming desire to protect the vibrant, strong spirit residing in her comparatively frail body getting the better of him.  

            She wanted his trust, his respect.  Fine; he was willing to give that to her.  That didn't mean it wasn't going to bug the hell out of him.          

            "Kenshin!" Saya's sing-song voice rang through the little house.  She practically skipped through the front door, a colorfully wrapped bundle clutched to her chest with bashful pride.  She heard rustling in the kitchen and moved to meet the redhead as he appeared around the corner, wiping his hands on a towel.

            "Welcome home, Ms. Saya," he greeted cheerfully, "You should have told me you were getting off work early.  I was about to come pick you up."

            She beamed at him, a bit of pink staining her cheeks as she held out the bundle to him, "I didn't because I wanted this to be a surprise."

            He took the bundle from her, turning it over in his hands curiously before pulling the paper free.  Saya twisted her fingers together nervously as he did, face torn between a smile and embarrassment.  

            "I worked on it whenever things were slow at work.  Kashi helped me a little with some of the more complicated stitching," she explained.  Kenshin stared in awe at the blue haori in his hands long enough that she started to worry.  Then, he graced her with a breathtaking smile, bowing to show his deep appreciation.  

            "Thank you, Ms. Saya.  It is very beautiful work."

            "You're welcome," she replied, fighting to keep herself composed when he was looking at her with such gentle eyes.  It wouldn't be fair to let him know now when the time was drawing so near.  Maybe making the haori hadn't been such a good idea.  If something didn't happen soon, she would say something she'd regret.  

            A call from the front of the house was all the prompting she needed.  Saya quickly ushered the bemused rurouni back into the kitchen and almost ran to the door.  She stepped out gratefully, gracing the visitor with an almost thankful smile.  He smiled back, giving a respectful bow.

            "What can I do for you?" she asked.  

            He bowed again, "I am here to see the Battousai.  I'm an old acquaintance of his, Junji Inoue."

            Saya's smile froze on her face, "I'm sorry, but no one by that name lives here," she explained.  Her hands trembled where they were clasped in front of her.  It was here.  His hand was around her neck before she could process anything more than the realization, squeezing until she lost consciousness.  

            With a satisfied grunt, the large man caught the limp body and slung it almost casually over his shoulder.  He spared a predatory smirk towards the house before tossing a sheet of paper onto the front step and leaving, Saya's body swaying over his back. 

            Kenshin looked up from his vegetable chopping with a frown.  Something was wrong.  He turned towards the door, focusing his senses on the rest of the house.  Everything was in order, except… 

            "Saya," he breathed harshly, abandoning the vegetables and rushing to the door.  He was met by the lonely front lawn, devoid of the young woman who should be standing in it, addressing the visitor who'd come to call.  The wind rustled a few leaves across it, disturbing the paper at his feet.  He bent slowly to grab it and stood, reading over the bold scrawl grimly.  So… Junji had caught up to him again.  

            Kenshin gazed across the lawn and into the distance, toward the meeting place described in the note.  His eyes held a promise as they coldly swept back toward the house and he went to retrieve his sword.   

Oh ho, I am evil!  I delight in dramatic cutoffs, if you're new to my work.  Just ask the readers of my BOTI fic ^_^  I know people hate em, but you have to admit it makes you more anxious to read the next chapter.  

See?  Action coming!  Are we getting an idea of what will happen?  This chapter is confusing as hell, but all will become clear in time, I assure you.  Then you can go back, reread it, and leave a whole _new_ set of reviews!  Hehehe…

Wow, so a huge response to the last chapter!  I got twice as many reviews for that chapter than I did for the first three ^_^;; 

**Chiaroscuro:** Yeah, it's a bit nonaction in plot, but that's cause it's incredibly short.  The first draft was only twelve pages long total, and most of that was the actual "conflict" which you'll see next chapter.  These first chapters were more of a "let's get to know Saya" thing since I'd just thrown her in before.  I wanted my readers to get to know her better so they could sympathize with everything that's about to happen… gah, I can't say more or I'll reveal the plot!  Hehehe… Thanks for the actual review ^_^ It's refreshing to have people actually give you suggestions amid the praise.  I eagerly await my first flame, too.  I haven't gotten one yet, but it's only a matter of time, right?  

**Skitzo**** Pine Marten: I so know the feeling.  I don't review nearly often enough.  Sometimes I don't review simply because I'm in too much awe of the writer.  It's like, "You are a god, I cannot criticize you!" hehe.  They should really put in the counter idea… I'm all for that ::ponders:: I wonder if I could request it.  Oooh, a petition should be started.  Oh, and I found a cool name database on Baylor university's website.  It's where I pulled all the kids' names for the last chapter from.  **

**Jess:** Whoa, I corrupted an innocent?!  SWEET!  Most of my favorite stories are romances with… stuff, heh.  What can I say, I like fluff… it's just that most writers equate "romance" with "citrus" ^_^;;  Thanks for the review promise, too!  Glad you liked Fragile Immortality.  I do that all the time.  Find a cool story, click on the author to see if they have more.  Then it's sad when you find out that the rest of their fics are from things you've never heard of/watched ::cough::

**Angel of the Hazard:** Ah, you have to forgive them.  OC's frighten.  I didn't expect much review power for this story cause of that, so while it is mildly distressing, it isn't surprising.  I mean… I've read some Mary Sue's… -_-;; yeah, won't go further with that.

**rebuttal101:** Ahhh, under major construction is a beautiful thing.  If you noticed up top, I mentioned my Inu-Yasha fic, hehe.  They hate me!!!  Weeeee!  Good luck with your story.  Let me know when you get it up and I'll come read!


	6. To Protect

So I'm about to kill this fic.  It's taking way too long to get done ::evil glower at fic:: Mrrrrrr… Lately I haven't been doing so hot.  Between starting work, my writing taking a creative plunge, and a possible bout of anemia… yeah.  I've been so tired lately… my mom's making me go get my blood looked at to see if I really am anemic.  It wouldn't surprise me.  I've been below par in about everything lately.  I can't get out an intelligible sentence to save my life.  So if this chapter seems a bit… meh… then you'll know why.

Ok, I'm gonna get review responses out of the way right now cause I'd kind of like to leave the end of this free of chatter.  And there're only a couple, so… ::shrugs::

**Chiaroscuro: ::shrugs**:: Eh… I guess she's predictable, but the point of this story is more of… hey wait… do I have a point?  ::examines story:: Hmmm… well that's certainly a debatable topic.  Anyway, the thing I was focusing on with her power in this story is not so much that she _can_ feel what's going to happen, it's that she _can't_ feel what's going to happen now… in the single biggest turning point in her life.  Pretty damn terrifying for a future-seer, I think.  I also built this story around a single image that I had (it's the veeeeeeeeeeeeeeery last little part of the last scene in this chapter).  I do that a lot -_-;; A vision pops in my head and I'm like "wow, that's really cool!... now how did this happen?" and much confusion and warping takes place thereafter.  Mmm, when you see the last scene I think it'll become clearer why I decided that she would be a future seer/empath and all that drama of "not knowing."  I built her and the story around the scene… an interesting way to work… not for long term projects, I think.  Hehe.  Anyway, hope you enjoy this…

**Candy:** Yeah, there certainly is a childlike quality about Kenshin… which he likes destroying… often… with sharp pointy things and righteous talks of peace… which gets you right back to the childlike-ness, hehehe ^_^ Glad you like the story, and thanks for all the reviews!

**Jess:** ^_^;;; You're soooo going to hate me… that's all I have to say about that…

**To Protect: **To Protect

            The air lay heavily over the still afternoon.  The birds sat brooding in the trees, wary of spreading their wings under such a pitiless sky.  It wasn't hot, but it wasn't pleasant either.  The day simply sat; ground to a halt by forces not quite discernable.  Kashi cursed it as she stumbled down the road towards Saya's house.  Her breath came in short, heavy pants, lank pieces of hair bouncing against her flushed cheeks.  

            It wasn't fair, she thought.  It wasn't fair that someone like Saya should have to endure this.  The girl already had more years on her shoulders than was decent for her age.  She didn't deserve to die so young.  Especially not when she'd finally started to look honesty happy when she smiled.  

            With a sort of keening groan, she pushed herself even faster, clutching at her awkward kimono to keep her legs free of entanglement.  She had to find Kenshin.  Surely he didn't know what was going on or the stranger never would have made it back to town.  It had to have been an abduction. 

            Unless the stranger had already met up with Kenshin and had taken Saya forcibly.  

            The thought was quickly pushed from her mind.  She couldn't think like that.  She had to keep the hope that there was still one last bastion of strength to call upon.  The villagers had proved useless in trying to rescue their young friend.  Kashi couldn't really fault them.  They were farmers and shop owners, most of whom were of the generation too young to have fought in the revolution.  The rest were too old.  And the stranger wasn't a normal samurai, either.

            Kashi shook her head, forcibly turning her thoughts towards running.  The road to Saya's home had never seemed so long before.  

            She fumbled with the cloth of her kimono, trying to keep the sweat-slippery material in hand.  The distraction was enough to keep her off balance when she stumbled over the unexpected rock.  Kashi landed with a grunt, dust from the road rising about her in a sullen cloud.  She hissed in a breath at the pain shooting up her leg from her ankle.  

            "No," she wailed, shifting her weight so she could inspect the injury.  

            "Ms. Kashi."                

            Kashi jumped, a small shriek escaping her, at the unexpected sound of Kenshin's voice.  The rurouni knelt beside her, a hand held up in a disarming gesture.  She glared at him for a moment before sobering.  He wasn't smiling.  

            "Kenshin," she nodded, successfully keeping most of the pain from her voice.  She didn't want him worrying over her.  Saya was in much more need of protection than she was.  She licked her lips nervously at the hand casually gripping the hilt of the trademark sword on his hip.  Maybe he knew that, too.  

           "He took her through town, towards the river that the lake empties into," she told him, not wanting to waste any time.  

            Kenshin nodded tersely, forcing a reassuring smile onto his face.  She was touched by his effort, but didn't trust it for a moment.  In a detached part of her mind she marveled at how good he and Saya were at keeping polite appearances.  It was no wonder they'd grown close so quickly.  Kindred souls didn't need special powers or reading abilities to recognize each other.

            "Are you able to walk?" he asked, helping her get to her feet.  

            Kashi tested the throbbing ankle.  She clamped her tongue firmly between her teeth to keep from crying and shook her head.  Kenshin nodded and moved in front of her.

            "If you'll allow me, I will carry you back to town," he said, squatting slightly and proffering his back.  

            "No, you shouldn't" she protested, "You need to hurry.  I don't know how much time Saya has left," her voice hitched at the last and she had to put a hand to her mouth.  Kenshin gave her a sympathetic look over his shoulder and didn't move.

            "I know the man who took her," he said quietly, "He will not hurt her.  He is merely using her to lure me into a fight he knows I will not attend otherwise." 

            Kashi stared at him dumbly as her mind processed this new information.  So the stranger wasn't a stranger after all.  She had to fight the urge to take out her fear and anger on Kenshin.  It wasn't his fault he'd ended up living here.  Saya must have known something like this would happen and took him in anyway.  Things always had a reason when it came to Saya.

            "I'm only doing this so you won't waste any more time arguing," she told him sourly as she helped him get her settled on his back.  Kenshin grunted something of an acknowledgment and then was off.  

            Her head was still spinning with the rush of speed when he carefully handed her to one of the village boys.  She was so disoriented that she didn't even get flustered when she realized it was Mr. Matsumoto helping her into a chair.  

            "She's by the river," she heard one of the villagers tell the rurouni.  The sudden rise of voices giving similar advice roused her from her stupor.  She watched in alarm as Kenshin was swamped with people all trying to relate what happened.

            "Threw the blacksmith across the street like he weighed no more than a child!"

            "He had her slung over his shoulder and she looked as pale as a sheet,"

            "That low mongrel.  You'd better teach him for laying a hand on our little Saya,"

            "Said he would kill the lot of us if we tried to stop him,"

            "You have to do something!"

            Kashi struggled back to her feet, leaning against the chair to keep her weight off her ankle.  

            "Everyone, please," she shouted.  The pain in her voice made heads turn.  The mob quieted, watching her expectantly.  Kashi let out a small sigh of relief.

            "Kenshin knows where she is.  Let him go rescue her," she advised quietly.  The crowd murmured agreements and parted a bit to let the rurouni out.  Kenshin shot her a grateful look and was gone, red hair like a beacon as he faded into the distance.  Kashi and the rest of the villagers watched him go, a reverent stillness pervading the moment.  There was only one wish on all of their minds, and they all prayed that Kenshin could fulfill it.

            Kenshin took in his surroundings as he approached the river.  The land was flat and the grass short.  His mouth thinned.  If he hadn't found the note, he'd know the man by the choice in battlefield.  

            He slowed when the familiar bulk of his opponent came into view.  

            "Battousai," Jinji acknowledged with the barest nod of his head.  Kenshin spared him a narrow glance before sweeping the area for the reason he'd come.  

            Saya lay crumpled a few yards behind his opponent.  

            A not too subtle challenge.  

            "Did you harm her?" he asked coldly.  Jinji laughed.

            "Do you think I am a fool?" he shook his head, "I wanted your anger to fuel you into battle, not your cold rage," a smirk touched his lips as he lazily backed toward where the unconscious girl lay.  Kenshin's knuckles stood white against the hilt of his sword, but his face remained impassive.  

            "You'll fight better if you think there is a chance you can save her.  That's the kind of man you are, I've discovered," he chuckled, kneeling beside his captive and stroking a thick finger down her jaw, "You don't have a taste for vengeance, but you thrive on protecting the weak.  It must stem from that unfortunate incident with your departed wife." 

            Kenshin ignored the barb, "Then you should know that this battle is pointless.  I had no quarrel with your brother.  We merely fought to protect different ideals," he bowed respectfully, "As always, I apologize for being the cause of your loss.  I wish I could have known your brother by the hilt rather than the tip of his blade."

            Jinji surged to his feet, face purple, "It is too late for that, Battousai.  It was too late when you took it upon yourself to end his life," he drew his sword and took his stance in one violent movement, "I will allow you to mock me, and my brother, no longer.  Today is the last time we meet."

            Kenshin stared at him sadly for a moment before obligingly readying himself for the duel.  Every time he met Jinji he had his past slammed into his face.  It was people like this bitter man and his dead brother that haunted him, that made him loath who he'd been and question the pale attempts he made to atone.  Jinji had the heart of a true samurai, but it had been corrupted by grief and the thirst for vengeance.  He could still see the trembling youth challenging him so many years ago, tear marks fresh on his face.  It was an entirely different person from the man who stood before him now.  And though he was not responsible for his choice to walk it, Kenshin had certainly placed Jinji before the path.  

            "If it will satisfy you, I will fight," Kenshin sighed, feeling the weight of his years and deeds resting heavily on his shoulders.  He wondered how he would fare this time.  The last battle had been won only after a bitter struggle.  It was sad to see such talent and dedication to the art wasted on revenge.  In another life, Jinji could have been an even stronger protector of the Meiji era than Kenshin.  

            The ripples of destruction were still felt, even after a decade of peace.  

            "I have trained since our last battle," Jinji informed him, his rage calming to a more calculating anger.  It was a needless statement.  Each battle they fought thus far had seen Kenshin walk away.  To beat the former hitokiri, Jinji did everything he could to constantly improve himself in the hope that each next battle would be the last.  So his skill did nothing but expand while Kenshin's remained stagnant. 

            Kenshin shook his head with wry acceptance.  There was a heavy possibility that this really would be their last battle.

            Saya's groan was quiet, but so unexpected that the two men fell out of strike posture.  Kenshin flicked a worried glance in her direction, but she didn't stir again.  Jinji smirked at the distraction, but in a moment they were both vibrating from the waves of powerful ki spilling from their taut forms.  Kenshin's eyes narrow dangerously and he fought to keep his anger in check.  New techniques be damned.  He couldn't risk what might happen if he didn't win this battle.    

            The heaviness of the day lifted momentarily with the clashing breeze of opposing charges.

            Saya woke to the sound of clashing steel.  She blinked slowly, trying to refocus her vision in the hope that it would refocus her mind as well.  Her head was throbbing with a dull ache and her throat was dry.  She sat up cautiously, mindful of the way the ground seemed to twirl beneath her. 

            "Kenshin?" she mumbled, pressing the heel of her hand against an eye.  He was nearby.  She could feel it.  And something else…

            Saya stumbled to her feet hastily, mind suddenly painfully aware of both her surroundings and the situation.  

            "Oh god," the whisper was harsh on her lips as she assessed the battle taking place before her.

            Kenshin grunted, the sound liquid in his throat as his body hit the ground.  His opponent strolled up to him almost casually, sword held loose and forgotten in his right hand.  With his left he hauled the rurouni up by an arm.  Saya cried out in pain with Kenshin as the broken pieces of bone ground against each other with the action.  A sob broke free of her chest as the red head was tossed back to the ground.

            "Stop it!" she screamed, throwing herself forward on shaking limbs.

            Jinji paused in his advance, startled by the unexpected demand.  He watched as she skidded to her knees beside the broken body lying twisted in the grass.  She pressed a hand to his chest, searching his eyes anxiously for any sign of life.

            "Kenshin," she murmured, pausing to let a little relief wash through her as his chest rose and fell beneath her palm.  

            "Out of the way, woman," Jinji growled not unsympathetically, "Don't waste your time on him.  He's painted the streets with blood.  He doesn't deserve to live."

           "And who are you to decide that?" she replied calmly, turning to stare at her kidnapper.  Jinji paled at her expression.  Rather, her lack of expression.  Saya gave him a brittle smile.

            "Who are any of us?" she continued and he had to strain to hear her voice.  Then louder, "So… you are the cause of this pain," her laughter was ironic, "At least the waiting is over.  I'll finally be rid of this feeling."

            "Saya?" Kenshin's voice rasped in his throat.  Her head whipped back around to him.  He struggled to sit up, but her hand remained firm against his chest.

            "Don't move," she commanded, "I'll take care of this now."

            "What?" he managed.

            And at the same time, "What are you talking about, girl?" Jinji shifted the grip on his sword nervously.  He didn't like the ki he was reading from her.  It was putting him on edge.

            "I will finish this," Saya repeated, ripping a piece of her kimono sleeve and pressing it to the largest of Kenshin's wounds that she could see. 

            "No," he said firmly, trying to rise again.  Saya didn't try to stop him this time.  He was back on the ground in an instant, breath hissing through his teeth in pain.

            She took another strip of cloth and smoothed the hair away from his brow, wiping the blood from his vision.  Kenshin blinked rapidly, trying to keep the darkness blurring the corners of his vision at bay.

            "Let me protect you," she murmured with an ironic little smile.  Kenshin stilled completely, forgetting to breathe for a moment.

            "This is ridiculous," Jinji snarled, "You can't expect to fight me, girl.  Don't throw your life away for a devil like the Battousai."

            "Saya, no," Kenshin pleaded, "I will finish this myself," 

            She just shook her head, "You can't," and bent forward, placing a kiss on his forehead along with a plea, "Please don't hate me,"         

            With a frustrated growl, Jinji grabbed her shoulder, practically throwing her to the side.  She landed with a dull thud and was still for a moment.  Kenshin watched her, horror written on his face at what he could feel rolling off of her in waves.

            He'd never seen a ki so massive.

            "Saya," he murmured sadly as she struggled to her feet.  Her kimono was torn and stained with his blood, and a little trickle of her own leaked from her lower lip.  Jinji turned to stare at her, the full impact of what she was exuding dawning on him.

            "What are you?" he spat out as she stared at him, expression flat and completely deadpan.  

            Kenshin struggled to rise once again but found that it only made the darkness creep in faster.  The day by the lake flashed through his mind as he watched her advance on the samurai from the end of a dark tunnel.  Jinji was screaming at her now, warning her to stay away.  Kenshin couldn't see what he was doing though.  His gaze was fixed on the girl as her past words echoed through his mind.

            _Sometimes you can want to protect too much._

_._

_._

_._

_._

            Kashi slid the door closed quietly and let her forehead rest against it.  Muriko watched her from where he leaned on the opposite wall.  He shifted his weight to relieve his bum leg and waited for her to speak.  When she finally turned to look at him, the smile was desperate and sad.

            "At least she's eating well," she said with a laugh that sounded more like a sob.

            "Only enough to keep her on her feet," Muriko said heavily and offered to walk the younger girl out.

            "Did she say anything to you?" he asked hopefully.  Kashi shook her head mutely, eyes trained on the floor.  Muriko sighed wearily and nodded.  It didn't surprise him.

            "I'll let you know if anything changes," he assured her at the door, "When he wakes up, if she says something… anything," he shook his head, scrubbing a hand across his face.  

            "Thank you," Kashi bowed politely before all but bolting from the yard.  Muriko watched her go, eyes dulled by worry and age.  He could feel his years keenly these days.  Ever since the village men had stumbled into his house with Kenshin's broken body and his niece's silent, anxious form hovering over it.  Three weeks later and the only improvement was in the former's condition.  Every day the rurouni healed a little more, lost in deep sleep.  It was almost like Saya was feeding him through her own body, because while he steadily improved, she was descending deeper and deeper into depression.

            He sighed again and turned back into the house, heading to the kitchen to fetch his niece a light meal.  When he returned to the closed door it was only after a long hesitation that he went in.  He set the tray down on the low table he'd moved into the bedroom and went to his niece's side, kneeling awkwardly beside her.

            "How is he doing?" he asked.  She never really answered with anything more than a small smile, but he always asked anyway.  Anything to relieve the room of the pall of silence that hung in it.  

            "He'll wake up tomorrow," she said, voice rough with disuse.  Muriko stared at her in shock. 

            "Saya?" he placed a cautious hand on her shoulder, urging her to look at him.  She did, turning flat, glazed eyes on him.  He felt tears prick the corners of his eyes as he took in her appearance.  She'd lost a lot of weight in the past weeks and there were dark rings under her eyes.  She hardly left the sleeping rurouni's side, tending to his every nursing need like a sacred ritual.  And there was the ever present sadness; some sorrow that was eating away at her from the inside.  His little Saya was slowly wasting away and he couldn't get her to tell him why.

            "What happened by the lake?" he asked for what had to be the two hundredth time, "The police said they wouldn't arrest Kenshin because the man assaulted the townsfolk and kidnapped you.  He isn't in any trouble.  What is it that's doing this to you?" he pleaded softly.  

            She blinked at him silently and for a moment the glaze over her eyes fell away.  Muriko's breath hitched in his throat at what he saw now that her emotions weren't hidden behind the thin veil.  

            "Sweetheart, please tell me," he begged now, hugging her frail form to him gently, afraid she'd shatter.  She shook her head against his shoulder with a small sigh.  He closed his eyes and tried to respect the decision.  There had to be a good reason she wouldn't say anything.  Maybe she was waiting for Kenshin to wake up.  Only one more day, in that case.  Because if she wouldn't tell him, he'd pry it from the insufferable red head who was draining his niece of her spirit.  

            "I'm a bit tired, uncle," she murmured then.  Muriko reluctantly let her go, nodding.  He started to help her to her feet but she shook her head stubbornly.  His expression smoothed understandingly and he went to the closet to pull out the spare futon.  She practically collapsed onto it and by the time he came back with the extra blanket, she was already asleep, one hand stretched out to touch the shoulder of the man sleeping next to her.  

            Muriko considered the picture it made for a moment before shaking his head, tucking the blanket into place, and slipping out of the room.

            It was well past midnight when Saya finally woke.  She sat up slowly, feeling the ache of the past weeks pulling at her muscles.  She pushed it aside and bent over her patient, checking his sleep.  

            She smiled at the even rise and fall of his chest.  He was almost completely healed.  The arm would need a few more weeks, but the doctor had set it and left her a sling for when he woke up.  And he would wake up tomorrow.  He didn't need her to nurse him anymore.  There was no more hiding from the moment.    

            Saya pulled herself upright, kneeling with her hands folded carefully in her lap.

           "I killed him, Kenshin," her words hit like stones in the still night, "I took a life for selfish reasons… I…" she stopped, pulling in deep even breaths before continuing, "I should be here when you wake up, but… I don't think I can," her hands clenched against the cloth of her lap, "I don't know… and though I don't think you'll mean to hate me…" her voice broke and she gave up with a small sob.  The future was a messy blur in her heart.  No matter how much she tried, the next day, and the day after that and after that, were all hidden from her.  

            She was blind.

            "I think this will be easier on both of us," she explained in a whisper, leaning over his peaceful face.  Her lips hovered over his for a long, indecisive moment, tears hitting his cheeks softly.  Then, she was on her feet and stumbling out the door, a hand clamped over her mouth as she sobbed.  

            The air in the room settled as the sound of her footsteps and tears faded away.  Then, as the night resumed its peaceful watch, a soft breeze flitted through the room where it opened to the inner garden.  The tears shivered in response and slid down Kenshin's face.       


	7. Without Regret

::chanting over occult looking objects:: Shhh, I'm trying to resurrect this story from the dead.  Hold on a sec ::there's a loud explosion and a poof of glitter and marshmallows:: *cough**cough* _;; Ergh… Ok.  So let's see what I can do to finish this up, shall we?  ::pops a marshmallow in her mouth and attacks the be-glittered keyboard:: 

Disclaimer: No own Kenshin!  I do own these marshmallows, though.  Mmmm, resurrection marshmallows…

**To Protect:** Without Regret

            The sun had barely risen when Muriko quietly padded down the hallway toward Kenshin's room.  He wanted to make sure Saya had breakfast and the best time to attack was when she was still half asleep.  He slid open the door and moved to step into the room.

            And froze.  There, sitting up and staring out the doorway into the garden, was Kenshin.  Beside him was a rumpled futon and blanket.  But Saya…

            "Where is Saya?" the words came from his mouth unbidden.  

            Strained purple eyes turned from the garden to look at him.  The smile plastered on the wanderer's face was just as lackluster.

            "I don't know," his voice was raspy from disuse.  

            "She was here last night."  Muriko protested and stepped into the room.  He looked around, half expecting her to be hiding in one of the corners.  His niece wasn't in the house, though.

            "I know."  The words were unexpected.

            The older man frowned, "When did you wake up?" 

            "Just a few minutes ago."

            "But… she couldn't have left recently.  I would have heard her." He rubbed his forehead wearily.  This was supposed to be the morning he discovered the source of Saya's pain.  The morning she started to heal from whatever wound she was suffering from.

            "I didn't see her," Kenshin said quietly, "But I know she was here with me."

            "Stupid girl," Muriko fought to keep his voice level, "She's almost half dead from taking care of you all this time and now she runs off just before you wake up."

            He sat down heavily on the chest by the door.  His cane wasn't strong enough to support him right now.  Birds were busy greeting the morning in the garden.  Saya should be there as well.  She should walk through the door and laugh over her poor uncle's worry.  'It was just a silly thing.'  And they could have a nice brunch and celebrate Kenshin's return to health.

            "You." He growled and raised dangerous eyes to the wanderer, "You know what is wrong.  What happened that day, Himura.  Tell me."

            The red head flinched and for a moment Muriko felt sympathetic.  The poor boy had just woken from three weeks of healing sleep and was pale with fatigue.  He should leave him to his rest and search for Saya on his own.  She'd probably toddled off to Kashi's house and hadn't expected Kenshin to wake up so early.  

            No, she'd known exactly when he would wake up.  She'd left deliberately.  

            "I don't even recognize my own niece anymore, Himura," he warned, "I won't wait much longer."

            Kenshin lifted his head and met his gaze firmly, "I am sorry, sir.  I failed to protect your niece and because of that she… she killed a man."

            "Killed…" the words died on his tongue and an uneasy silence settled over them.  Muriko could feel his age coaxing him to give in for the day.  He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.  He took his breaths deeply and evenly to calm the painful thumping of his heart.  

            His Saya had killed a man.

            "How could she do that?" he whispered.  The thought was absurd.  "She doesn't have a violent bone to her.  She's just a little girl.  I don't think she even weighs half what she should for her height.  It isn't possible." 

            "It was her power," Kenshin's voice was hollow.  

            His head snapped up in horror.  Her power.  But the weight settled again with wry acceptance.  So this was the day she had been waiting for.  As a child he would comfort her when she'd wake up sobbing in the night.  He'd always asked what was wrong, but she could only shake her head.  It was a turning point in her life and it filled her with unimaginable fear.  A moment her power would surface and she would suffer the repercussions.  And Kenshin was the trigger.  

            "I guess she made the decision for you?" he asked tiredly.  

            The dry rustle of sheets betrayed Kenshin's unease, "I don't understand what you mean."

            "She told me once that she would have a choice when this happened.  One answer would destroy and the other would preserve.  But either way she would suffer."

            "Then I guess she chose to destroy," the rurouni stated.

            Muriko frowned.  Well, yes it would seem that way.  She'd killed the man who had kidnapped her.  There was the answer, but he still didn't know what the question was.  He lifted his head and eyed the sulking man in the middle of the room.  Here was the key to the mystery.

            "Did she ever tell you what would trigger her power?" he asked idly.

            Kenshin shook his head.  His mouth was set in a grim line and his jaw was quivering.  

            "Well then we're both in the dark," he rubbed the back of his neck, "But I don't think it would be too hard to figure it out."

            Purple eyes flicked in his direction before returning to the floor.  Muriko frowned.  The boy was being stubborn and foolish.  No wonder Saya had run away.  She knew Kenshin would be grouchy over being protected by a young girl.  

            "The trigger her father's power used was his dedication to the revolutionary cause.  His beliefs," his eyes unfocused in memory, "He was always being tugged this way and that by his ideals.  They ruled his life."

            "That is not Saya," Kenshin observed.  His scow had softened into more thoughtful expression.

            "No.  I would say that silly girl is ruled by her emotions," Muriko agreed.  He sat up straight and his gasped.  Of course. 

            "Yes," the other man folded his legs beneath the blanket and bowed his head, "And those emotions led her to take a life… Though I don't have any right to speak against her for something like that." 

            "No, you don't," Muriko snapped, "The power to protect is a curse, not a blessing.  It cuts both ways.  My brother was destroyed because of it, and now," he trailed off and rubbed his eye sockets tiredly.  He could feel a headache coming on, but right now he had to talk some sense into this idiot.

            "Kenshin, did Saya ever talk about her fears?" he asked.

            "A little.  She would not tell me anything that could have prevented this from happening," his fists clenched in his lap, "If she had told me, I would have made sure she wouldn't have had to endure that."

            Muriko nodded as the puzzle fell into place.  Only a little more and he would know exactly what was happening.  "Did she say why she wouldn't tell you?" he prompted.

            "She said it was her choice," the wanderer's head came up slowly as the words fell from his mouth, "If she told me too much it could change things and she would lose the one thing most precious to her."  His eyes were huge with understanding.

            Muriko sighed and struggled to his feet, "Saya is a girl ruled by her heart.  It shows itself in her feelings, so it's only natural to assume it would trigger her other power," he turned to the door, "I'm going to make you some lunch, now.  I suggest you think about this."

            The head bowed again.

            The older man shook his head.  One more push.  "I think she would fight to protect those she loved," he mused as if talking to himself, "And there is only one kind of love I can think of that would cause her to lose control."

            Kenshin flinched again but didn't speak.

            "I think now the only choice is left to you, Himura," he said pointedly.

            His voice was low and shuttered, "She asked me to respect her choice so that she could respect mine."

            Muriko's eyes widened.  He hadn't expected his comment to hit so devastatingly.  But the last of the mystery had fled.  His face fell as he thought of his niece.  Now that he knew what she was facing he didn't blame her for wanting to be away.  Her love was sitting precariously in the hands of a man who had the power to crush her heart.  And she couldn't see what choice he would make.  Would he understand?  Would he forgive her?  Muriko shook his head; it was more than that.  

            Would he stay?

            The weight of the question settled over him as he prepared a light meal.  The doctor had warned that the red head would have to regain his strength gradually over time.  He would need to stay grounded for a few more weeks before he was fully healed.  Which meant Muriko probably wouldn't see Saya until after everything had settled and Kenshin made his choice. 

            The cutting board cracked underneath his hands and he stared at it in surprise.  Dazedly he realized he'd been chopping the vegetables with a little more force than was necessary.  He shook his head and dumped them into the broth simmering on the stove.  

            Perhaps the question wasn't if Saya could respect Kenshin's decision, but if _he could.  He shoved guilt aside stubbornly.  The feelings were only natural.  He was responsible for the feather-headed girl, and therefore wished to prevent her from being hurt.  _

            "She really has grown up," he realized softly, his gaze drifting somewhere that wasn't in the room.  The presumptuous five year old had stumbled through life as gracefully as she'd been allowed, with her heritage fettering her with sorrow.  And now she was standing lost at a crossroads, waiting fearfully for her path to be pointed out to her.  

            He clanked dishes onto the serving tray and slopped food into them without much care.  His footsteps were loud as he tramped down the hall with Kenshin's lunch.  

            "Here's your food," he announced coldly as he entered the rurouni's room, "The doctor said you should eat it slowly."  Silence met his advice and he took a moment to really look around.    

            The futon and blanket were folded neatly in the corner and beyond their presence, the room was bare.  Muriko stared at the space where only half an hour ago a brooding man had been sitting.  He had just woken up; he was an idiot was to be leaving this soon.

            He was an idiot for leaving at all.

            His hands trembled and the dishes on the tray rattled, "Don't you dare show your face here again if you break her heart, rurouni," he warned, "This town will defend Saya even if you won't."

            -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

            Clouds skimmed across the surface of the lake.  Birds dipped and swerved crazily amid the breeze and their wings were rainbow touched by the morning sun.  Saya watched them play without lifting her head.  She wasn't feeling up to facing life right now, so she would settle for its reflection.  And the only thing she couldn't stand even in reflection was herself.    

            She was a coward.  She'd bolted just before having to face what she'd done.  At least Kenshin had found a way to atone for his sins.  He hadn't turned his face from what he'd done.  He'd never sat by a lakeshore feeling sorry for himself while the sun stretched the day along.

            She needed to go back.  She should march through the house, enter Kenshin's room, and face him squarely.  She needed to accept his decision and feelings over what she had done.  

            But that was what had sent her running from the house last night.  The fear of what she would find in his eyes when they slid open and focused on her face.  Would there be loathing there?  Pity?  Understanding?  She could hardly hope for the last.  Though he hadn't killed Jinji with his own hands, she had murdered the younger man in his defense.  In his mind it probably amounted to the same thing.  He would see it as his own failing and feel he couldn't stay.  

            Or he could despise her.    

            The thought brought the burn of tears to her eyes.  She tightened her arms around her knees and tucked her face away from the world.  

            She managed to calm herself down after a few moments and tilted her face back toward the water.  Her rumpled reflection stared back at her and she looked at herself detachedly.  Dark circles sagged under bloodshot eyes and her skin was a blotchy gray color.  Her hair was lank around her shoulders and didn't shine under the morning sunlight.  She looked like a miserable waif.  

            Then her gaze slid to the right of her image.  Kenshin stood there with his arm resting lightly in a sling.  His face was pale and serious.  

            She closed her eyes for a moment before lifting her head and straightening her back.  She gathered bruised courage and forced herself to turn and face him.  He stared down at her and his expression was unreadable.  When she realized he wasn't going to say anything, she turned back and rested her chin on her knees again.  Even though she was dying with anticipation, she dreaded to have it lifted.  At least while she was ignorant she had a little bit of hope.

              She watched the birds in the water as he moved forward and settled onto the ground next to her.  They sat next to each other and contemplated the water as it rippled and distorted their reflections.  

            "Thank you for taking care of me while I was injured," he said at last.  Saya couldn't help a small smile when she heard his voice.  She'd missed it in the past weeks.

            "You're welcome," she murmured.  Her eyes were drawn to the opposite side of the lake.  An imposing line of trees skirted the northern side and they swayed to the silent music of the morning.  She wondered what it would be like to sit in the highest branches of one as it danced.  

            Terrifying and surreal.  Like it was really the earth that was moving and not the tree at all.  If she closed her eyes she could almost feel the sensation of the wind singing through her hair and drop of her stomach as the tree lurched beneath her hands.  From that high up it would almost be possible to forget she belonged on the ground.  

            But she wasn't cradled in the lofty embrace of the trees.  She was sitting next to the lakeshore with a man who possibly hated her.  The urge to run clutched her chest again and she flinched.  She couldn't hold herself here much longer.  

            "Kenshin," she took a shuddering breath, "I'm not sorry that I protected you."  The words were bold in her ears, but needed to be said.  She didn't regret saving him.  Not even when these moments sitting beside him could be the last.

            "Are you sorry that Jinji died because you did?" his voice was chilly.

            A piece of ice lodged in her chest, "Yes," she choked over the burning.  Her eyes were blurring again and warmth spread over her hands as she began to cry.  "I tried so hard, Kenshin.  I tried to hold it back, but it was too strong.  I couldn't control what my hands were doing.  They just," she held them before her and they trembled, "did these awful things and I couldn't stop it."  Even now she thought she could see the blood stinging her palms.  She stuffed them to her chest and closed her eyes.  If she didn't think about his death, Jinji's face would disappear from her mind.  The feelings lingered, though.  Ghosts of fear and pain that picked at the edges of her conscious and tested her ability to hold the memories and remain sane.  She blocked them for the time being.  As weak as she was now, to try and deal with the idea would overwhelm her.  After so many years of leeched memories, she was very aware of her own teetering claim to sanity.  This wasn't the time to test that claim.  Not when she was already so close to breaking down.     

            The warm weight of an arm draped over her shoulders.  She made a strangled noise of surprise as she was suddenly pulled into a tight embrace.

            "Forgive me," Kenshin murmured, "You have given me so much understanding.  I should do the same."

            Her breath hitched in her throat.  Understanding.  She hadn't hoped for half that much.  

            "You don't hate me?" her voice was touched with awe.  His hand rubbed soothing circles into her back.

            "How could I hate you, Saya?" he asked with a chuckle.

            "But I killed him," she protested, still not quite grasping his forgiveness, "You've lived the last ten years protecting people without taking a life.  I try to protect just you and I turn into a monster."  Her arms tightened around him involuntary and her throat constricted.

            He shushed her, "That is why I should leave.  If I am not here, you won't ever lose control of your power again."  

            Something squeezed inside her chest and she had to struggle to breathe.  She had his forgiveness, but not his presence.  An appropriate punishment for her crime.  She'd made her choice and now she would live with it.  Or without it.  He would walk free of her strange imprisonment.  His life was full of hardship and she'd fettered him enough already.

            Still, the words cost her.  "I know," she croaked.  The trigger would disappear and without its presence her heart would ache, but she would endure.  She had no other choice.

            "But I don't think I will," he went on, his voice suddenly light.  

            Saya blinked, "What?" Had she missed part of the conversation?

            "Well, if I leave you might fall in love with someone else," he reasoned.

            "Kenshin!" she blushed.  He had to have figured out her feelings for him to understand what had happened, but it was embarrassing to hear him say it so baldly.

            "And how do I know he will be able to protect himself?"  His voice dropped, "I don't want you to ever lose yourself to that power again.  I don't want you to have to endure anymore hardship than you already have."

            She shook her head, "No, Kenshin, it was my choice.  I could have told you before hand, but then you would have," she trailed off and hugged him closer.  He wouldn't have let her soil her hands.  For her innocence he would have sacrificed himself.  

            "And this is mine," he reminded.  His breath was warm in her ear, "Let me protect you, Saya."

            The breath shuddered from her lungs in a sigh and she collapsed limply against him.  There didn't seem to be any strength left to her bones.  

            "Alright," she accepted dazedly.  From one extreme to the other.  From never having him with her again to a lifetime of his soothing presence.  At least… what she assumed was a lifetime.  

            "Let's go home, Saya," he prompted with a chuckle.  She nodded against his chest and attempted to rise.  He grunted when her arms buckled and she thumped against him.  

            "Sorry," she murmured dizzily.  He had a broken arm, she reminded himself. 

            He laughed, "Aren't we a fine couple?  A half-healed invalid and his exhausted nurse.  How will we manage to make it back, I wonder?"

            She smiled.  Couple?  Yes, that was a nice word for him to use.  She could wiggle the specifics from him later; maybe when she wasn't so tired.  A mid morning nap wasn't considered proper, but between the warm sunlight and the drowsy rhythm of Kenshin's heart, sleep was irresistible.  

            "Worry about that later," she suggested.  

            "Mmm," he agreed, enjoying the view of the lake and the company tucked in his arm.  

            It wasn't until her head started to slide off of his shoulder that he realized she'd fallen asleep.

            "Oro," he muttered, trying to balance her with only one arm.  She seemed to have other ideas, though, as her head found his lap and a hand curled possessively around his knee.  He blinked at the unconscious movements and a quirky smile tugged his eyes closed in content.

            She was still as much of a mystery as ever, but maybe a few of the shadows had been chased from her heart.  If they hadn't been, he'd already made it his private goal to tease them free.  Hopefully it wouldn't take very long; she deserved a break.  But if it took months, that's how long he would stay.  He would wedge himself irremovably in that house and her heart.  Even if it took years.  Even if it took the rest of his life.              

            And even if it didn't.

            ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

            ::sniffles:: It's… it's so… so… CHEESEY!!!!  ::cracks up:: Ah, I love recognizing the disgusting fluff in my work.  But that's what I set out for in this story.  A nice romance.  Some plot, some character, a nice happy ending ::content with her fluff:: And it's DONE!  ::does a jig:: That's three things I've finished!  Well… two if you don't count the one shot.  ITFH is moving nicely, and I've been making stabs at the Summer Session plot recently, so things are going well.  Now if I can just hold back the tidal wave of school work looming over the shore… ^_^ Zeh Wulf shall prevail!  Wish me luck!  And thanks for reading!

**Thanks Candy, jess: **see?  I made it better ^_^ **Chiaroscuro: ::swallowing a huge iron pill:: Uh, yeah.  Anemia sucks.  Oh well.  I finally finished it!  Wah!  Everyone dance! ****Abby: O.O Wow, you empathized with my villain.  Yeah! ^_^ I guess I'm doing something right, then.  Hehe.  Glad you liked Saya, too.  She amuses me greatly and I hold her in a special place cause she's strong without realizing it. **Evlo******, and Anjali Sahra: Yeah!  It's my cool reviewer of inspiration!  Glad to see you're back on the scene.  Yeah, that scene rocks my socks.  That part with her almost kissing him and everything afterwards was what I wrapped the story around.  I so want to animate that part.  Just that part.  Ok, so maybe the whole thing, but that especially.  I've probably mentioned this all already in past A/Ns… -_-;; That's what I get for two months hiatus.  Bad Wulf! ::scampers back to ITFH::  **


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